I’m ninety-eight percent certain he’s human.
Her, though?
She’s still a mystery.
And yet they walk into the shop like they belong there.
That’s the part that bothers me.
The entire time I’ve been watching this place, no one has used the front door.
No one.
Until her.
I see Stark’s eyes flick toward the entrance.
Then widen.
Now that is interesting.
Several things happen at once.
In less than a blink, Stark has the human by the throat.
Greasy and his hired muscle, however, are focused entirely on the woman.
The way predators focus on wounded prey.
Fuck.
You should’ve stayed away.
I shift into a crouch, weighing my options.
If Stark kills the human, I finally have justification to move against the blood dealer.
If Greasy reaches her first...
I clamp down on the thought before it can finish forming.
Doesn’t matter.
Head in the game, Z.
And that’s when all hell breaks loose.
Stark releases the human and immediately turns his attention to Greasy’s hired muscle, launching one through a table and the other into a wall hard enough to crack the drywall.
Greasy takes one look at the fight and bolts for the back door.
Coward.
Then again, if he knows anything about who he’s doing business with, he knows his hired muscle doesn’t stand a chance against an ancient vamp boss.
I track Greasy for half a second before movement near the entrance snags my attention.
One of the meatheads.
